Blood Oath (Darkest Drae #1)(3)
“Maybe you could come by for my supper break?” he asked in a rush.
He accompanied the question with an intense look, and I gave him a blank one in return. Why would I come to see him in the southern fields? We’d never . . . That would mean . . . I flushed.
“Aye, now, lad. I told you to clear out.” Dyter bustled over, his presence pushing Arnik out the back door. “And no more telling those upstart laddies ’bout the meetings here. If you think the houses of Ers, Ets, and Als are interested in joining, you let me know and I’ll decide if they can come, but you had the third son of Tal here.” Dyter’s voice showed exactly what he thought of the third son of Tal. The serious undercurrents to his words were unmistakable. The tavern owner rarely laid down the law, but when he did, he expected us to fall in line. I supposed that was why Dyter was so high up in the rebellion. He had a natural air of command.
“I thought you were recruiting,” Arnik said, turning his frown on Dyter. “If Cal is really, truly coming, everyone will want to meet him. We could recruit a heap more to the cause if we told people. My friends want to help.”
Dyter wiped the sheen from his shaved head. “Aye. We’re recruiting, but only those willing to fight with their hands and weapons, not their ruddy mouths. The Tals won’t fight. They’re toadies of the king, boy. No sense in having young Talrit come spy for his father and uncles. You’ll earn us a one-way ticket to the king’s dungeons. Know how many people survive his dungeons?” He walked away, shouting over his shoulder, “None!”
Arnik inhaled at the cutting words. Now that he was eighteen, just like the other young men, he hated being treated like he was seventeen.
Dyter was right, though. Everyone knew which houses were in the king’s pocket, and the House of Tal was one of them. The Tals had a constant supply of food and goods, which in the depths of the hunger meant they were obscenely rich and, as such, disconnected with the plight of the likes of peasants. Why would the House of Tal ever revolt against King Irdeldon?
“Talrit is not a spy.” Arnik’s pale skin blotched as his temper rose.
Pretty soon he’d be yelling, and the argument would go nowhere. Besides, Arnik needed to leave or he’d run the risk of breaking curfew.
Arnik clenched his fists and leaned forward, gearing up to fight. “We’ve been friends—”
For two weeks. I grabbed his arm and said, “You’d better go. You’re cutting curfew too close.” I raised my eyebrows at Dyter, a pointed look meant to tell him to stop. Thankfully, he understood and turned toward the kitchen, mumbling something about grabbing a mop.
“Come on,” I said, leading Arnik to the door. “You know how Dyter gets when new people come. You can’t keep bringing everyone who says they’re unhappy.”
“But, Cal—”
The elusive Cal, the rebel leader. Everyone speculated he was someone from the late queen’s family. Queen Callye died before I was born, but the stories were that she helped the people. Of course, Irdelron killed her and sent her entire family to the front lines of the war to be slaughtered. Even their son was sent off to battle when he came of age. His own son.
The rebels had taken up her family name, and the leader was our one hope for salvation, or so everyone older than me said. “No one even knows who Cal is. No one knows what he looks like, not even Dyter. He sends messages by courier and never the same one twice. We don’t know if Cal is even his real name.”
Despite the rebel meetings Dyter held at The Crane’s Nest, my involvement was half-hearted at best. I mean, I wanted Dyter and Arnik to win, and I wanted to catch a glimpse of the mysterious Cal, but I wasn’t itching to fight. I’d do my part if it came to it. But it seemed like a hopeless cause. No one could defeat the king’s Drae.
I tugged Arnik to the door. “Dyter says Cal will only reveal himself to those he knows are loyal, so you can’t keep bringing new people in. If you want to meet him, you’re going to have to stop.”
I pushed the door open, and the moonlight settled upon my shoulders. My insides shuddered with yearning, a sensation that was growing stronger every day. I longed to step over the threshold into the night. Resisting the urge, I instead pulled myself back to the present. “You don’t have to agree, but you should show Dyter some respect. He’s higher up in the ranks than you.” As in, you’re barely in the ranks.
Arnik leaned forward and whispered, “All this talk of Cal . . . Don’t you want to see him? Do you really believe we can overthrow the entire kingdom because of one man?” He sounded doubtful. “The king has Lord Irrik, after all, and Cal is no Drae.”
There was only one Drae in Verald, so that was obvious. I shivered. Talk of Lord Irrik gave me the willies. “Be careful walking back,” I said, glancing at the beautiful, silky night. “You heard Dyter. The Drae has been spotted in the skies.”
“Do you think he’ll incapacitate me with his magic breath and chew on my bones?” Arnik asked.
I snorted and shoved him out the door, but cold terror shot through me at the line from our mothers’ stories. If the Drae was flying in the dark sky, Arnik wouldn’t even see him until it was too late. Drae could shift from dragon to man, or vice-versa, in the blink of an eye.
Arnik took a few steps and turned back, hands shoved in his pockets. “I won’t bring any more friends, but tell Dyter to stop being an old fool,” he said, oblivious to my fear of the Drae. “We need all the help we can get for the rebellion, even if it is from the third son of Tal.”